Thoughts Over Sake
by eXtreme eVolution
Summary: Mugen's thoughts. Takes place just after the finale of the anime series. Rated for slight coarse language and suggestive language. -One-shot-


**Thoughts Over Sake**

The moment Mugen stepped into the nearest town, he headed straight for a bar and ordered whatever amount of sake his last piece of metal could afford.

"This early in the morning?" the old bartender questioned civilly, eyeing him incredulously.

"Special occasion," he replied with glazed eyes, not turning to look up.

"Ahh… it must be the day of your birth," the elderly man deduced, his mid-patterned baldness glinting in broad daylight, the slight comb-over doing a poor job of protecting his decency. He swivelled around to retrieve a cup from a towering stack behind him.

The dark-haired swordsman with a rugged hairdo cleared his throat and with a sudden burst of nonchalance, he explained, "You could put it that way. I'm finally free from a moody old man and a nagging woman."

"Congrats," the shopkeeper responded apathetically, and as if in concurrence, poured the sake with precise movements and placed the cup before the swordsman, before becoming fully absorbed in wiping the plates and cleaning the cups.

Mugen grunted in acknowledgement. A couple of minutes later, he let out a chortle, then several loud snorts, which resulted in a few turned heads.

"Here, have another cup. It's on me. The shop's going bust soon anyway," the bartender sighed, placing a freshly filled cup next to the empty one.

Ever since he gained newfound freedom away from his annoying companions, Mugen felt like a retired old man – having all the time in the world, but passing the time with aching bones and joints. Now was a good time, if at all good, to sit down and reflect.

As he took a large gulp, Mugen recalled begrudgingly how as a child, he had scavenged for scraps of food or fought for keeps among other pirates. Basic survival skills – they got him through most of his life and life had taught him plenty. He recounted all the times he felt pain, shame and betrayal. For the most part, he hated to lose because he knew the consequences of showing any sign of weakness.

Things changed when he met Fuu and Jin. They intrigued yet frustrated him to no end, because they reminded him of his weaknesses. One: women. Two: intellect.

Fuu, that whiny, naggy flat-chested granny, was far from his interest. But she was still a woman nonetheless. Mugen would not lay a hand on a woman unless she could lay a hand on him. Or two. How Fuu managed to survive before their fated encounter remained a mystery. What annoyed him most was the feeling that compels him to race to her rescue time after time, the feeling that drives him to say to Jin, _"Don't die before our promised fight."_

During their journey, Mugen had come to admit that were many different skills that people could leverage on for basic survival. Even he had to admit that Jin, the cold bastard, was at least on par with, if not better than, him in terms of fighting skill. From his scholarly long hair to fake glasses, anyone could tell that Jin was obviously an intelligent strategist and not one to mess with, though Mugen could not give a rat's ass about Jin's emotionless face and his pathetic attempt at theatrics (or lack of). While some battled with cheap tricks, some battled with deception, some with money, others with words, and even a few with chopsticks.

Taking another gulp of sake, Mugen mused over the times when Jin impressed both Fuu and himself with his skill of earning big gold in a short time. Even Fuu impressed him with her bottomless pit. Mugen, no doubt, had his moments of glory. He smirked as he reminisced fondly about his fine handiwork on a certain castle.

The infinity symbol, he had realised, had increasing meaning to him. It was an endless cycle, a never-ending journey of learning and becoming stronger. With each spar with Jin, Mugen learnt that it is not that which does not kill you that makes you stronger, rather it is that which CAN kill you that makes you stronger.

"_Perhaps we shall meet again."_

The swordsman tilted the cup and slurped down the last trickle of sake, letting the liquid flow down the back of his throat, searing his throat with great intensity and leaving behind a bittersweet aftertaste.

Lifting his empty cup, Mugen added, "Cheers to that."


End file.
